The End of the World Survivors Club
by OrchisAilsa
Summary: Set between Torchwood's Dead Man Walking and A Day in the Death. Jack won't discuss what happened when he went away to find the Doctor and Ianto isn't happy about it. Martha finds herself caught between them as they discuss it. And then she finds herself caught between them in an entirely different way as they kiss and make up. M for sexy situations and a bit of infidelity.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Set between _Dead Man Walking_ and _A Day in the Death. _I can imagine that the things Jack and Martha endured might be the sorts of things that stick with you for a long time, and so I wanted to provide them a little catharsis for them which I feel like we didn't get in either Doctor Who or Torchwood. I also wanted to take Jack and Ianto out and play with them for a while. This story has allowed me to do both! I hope you enjoy it. xxo -O.A.**

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><p><em>Gwen: So you and Jack go back a long way, eh?<br>__Martha: Forward and back, really.  
><em>_Gwen: What brought you together?  
><em>_Martha: Let's say... we were under the same Doctor."_

The chaos at the hospital had finally passed. Back at the hub, Martha felt completely wrung out. The rapid aging (and de-aging) had taken its toll on her, for sure.

Jack was setting up Owen again in a room for the night, demanding that he stay for further observation, and both Gwen and Tosh had finally cleared out to go home and sleep, leaving Martha alone in the conference room with her heavy thoughts.

It seemed she would need to stay on at Torchwood 3 for awhile as their official medical doctor, much to Owen's chagrin. She wasn't thrilled about the idea either, truth be told. She was happy to help and she loved to be near Jack, but she felt as though her entire life with U.N.I.T was waiting for her at home, on hold.

Martha rolled her head from side to side and massaged her temples, closing her eyes for just a moment. That was when Ianto walked in with two mugs of his fancy coffee, startling her as he entered. Taking the cup he silently offered she smiled gratefully at him.

For a few moments they sat in silence, but Martha thought, as she observed him quietly, that he looked like he had something on his mind.

"You were with him," Ianto stated bluntly when he finally spoke. It wasn't a question. "You were there, when he left us. When he went off with his doctor."

_Ah. This. Of course._

Martha smiled wryly at his guarded, slightly envious tone. She had heard it often enough from her friends and coworkers at U.N.I.T.

"Ah... yeah. Yeah, I was," she confessed. "For some of the time."

He sipped his coffee and stared at her.

"What happened?" he asked as she took a sip of her own coffee.

"You don't know?" Her voice even sounded hollow to her own ears. She wasn't particularly shocked. Martha had never breathed a word of her tale of The Year to anyone besides her family. Who else could ever understand?

But, then again, Jack didn't have family. She would have expected him to share his story with someone, and Ianto would have been the likeliest choice. Had he really spoken to no one? The idea worried her.

"He left us," Ianto said, sounding uncharacteristically meek. "He always looked after us. He was our leader. He didn't kick me out even after- He was good to me. To us. And... Then he left. Without a word. And he took that awful hand in a jar. He had said that this doctor was the only one who could help him, make him normal again. Two months later he reappears. And he's the same. Not "normal." Only now he has more nightmares, and he never talks about any doctors. What happened?"

Her throat burned and her eyes filled with tears as he spoke. Her heart sank as she relived hundreds of lonely nights, sleeping under the roofs of strangers as she traveled, alone, preaching her singular gospel as she clung to desperate shreds of hope and sanity.

Opening her mouth to speak, she found she couldn't. She looked at Ianto pleadingly and shook her head.

"That good, eh?" Ianto said bitterly, draining his coffee and setting the mug down on the table with a dull thump. "That doctor must be a real piece of work. Look at you two. You're both a wreck. And it's been months."

Ianto thought it was the Doctor who had hurt them? Martha's misery flared into rage and her gaze turned to ice.

"Do not ever say anything like that about him. Not one word. Not ever. You're only alive today because of the sacrifices he made. The things he and Jack survived-"

"You did a fair amount of surviving yourself, Martha Jones," came a low voice from the doorway.

Both Ianto and Martha jumped, startled. Jack walked towards them, coming to stand behind Martha and place a hand on each of her shoulders. She leaned back in her chair, resting her head on his chest and slowly inhaling his familiar, comforting scent to calm her pounding heart. Despite his cool demeanor, though, Jack was wound as tight as a bow string. She could feel the tension as she leaned against him.

Ianto looked at the contact between her and Jack and grew more agitated, running a hand through his hair.

"Ianto," Martha began again, less angry now, but more tired, "It's not that we're hiding things from you. It's that talking about it makes it feel real again."

Ianto nodded stiffly. Jack scoffed.

"I've told you all of this before, Ianto."

"He only wants to help," Martha offered uselessly to Jack, turning to look sadly into his beautiful face.

"He can't." Jack's voice was bitter and jaded and he wouldn't meet either of their eyes. "I'd say it's because you can't undo the past... But we did undo the past. And it still isn't okay."

They let that hang in the silence for a moment. And then she disengaged from him and walked to stand beside Ianto.

"Who is it that you do speak to, Jack?" Martha asked. "Is there anyone you confide in? You need to find a way to work through some of the things you've seen and endured, before you crack under the pressure."

"It wouldn't help."

"Liar," Martha accused. "You're a human being, Jack. Sharing your burden always helps."

"I wouldn't-" Jack began.

"Jack," Martha protested, "Every day. He killed you every day for a year. Every day, nothingness. No one should handle that burden alone."

"Martha..." Jack warned.

"Who?" Ianto asked. "Who did that to you? Was it that doctor?"

"No!" they chorussed in unison, appalled. And then they looked deeply at each other, bittersweet as they both remembered their Doctor who they loved so deeply cradling their dying enemy and begging him to live. As much as they understood his loneliness, that moment had cut like a betrayal.

"You lived a year?" Ianto asked, with a gulp, tearing them from their reverie. "How?"

"'Live' is a strong word," Jack replied mirthlessly, looking to the sky. "We survived for a year. We existed. And then we undid it. It was... There were time travelers."

That didn't actually explain what had happened at all, but Martha knew Jack still didn't want to get into any more specific details.

"Someone killed you every day?" Ianto asked with horror.

Jack nodded, refusing to meet his lover's eyes.

"And were you ever going to tell me?"

Jack looked at his feet. Martha glanced between them, seeing the disconnect.

Ianto started to walk away, eyes averted.

"No!" She implored. "Ianto, it's not like that. What we lived through... It didn't happen. It was reversed. The Doctor reversed it."

"You reversed it," Jack corrected her, pointedly.

"Whatever. That's not important. The point is, it was undone. It never happened. Only ten people in the universe remember that timeline. Can you blame us for wanting to bury it? Erase it? Banish it? It was hell."

Ianto shook his head in frustration.

"I just..." He was speaking to Martha but his words were obviously meant for Jack. "It's just one more place he goes in his head that I can't follow. Where I can't help. Where he's trying to protect me. And I'm not a child. I don't want to be protected."

Martha nodded her understanding, recalling how similarly she had felt about the Doctor's mercurial mood swings, back when she was traveling in the TARDIS, and she felt a fierce pang of sympathy for the young man.

Ianto took a deep breath and went on, facing Jack this time.

"Whatever this is," he gestured vaguely between the two of them, "it won't ever work if you can't see us as equals. And I do want it to work."

It was a huge thing for the taciturn Welshman to admit, and Martha knew it. Ianto cared. Ianto was strong, and he deserved to have a chance to prove it.

"Jack," she said softly, turning around to look at him, "you didn't let HIM carry his burden alone."

He met her eyes with a hard gaze, both of them thinking back to that desperate night in the warehouse a lifetime ago.

"I'm no good at talking."

"So don't talk. He didn't. But you can't just hold it in. It will eat you alive. You have to let go of your grief and tension somehow, too."

"What are you suggesting, Martha Jones?" Jack asked darkly. His eyes flashed with something wicked.

She just raised an eyebrow and stared at him, unwilling to let him see how he affected her, even as a sharp, hot desire began to pool in her belly.

Jack and Martha stood there for a moment, staring tensely at each other, until Ianto broke the silence.

"Fuck this. I can't deal with this today. Anyone fancy a drink?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Martha: So, Jack asked me if I could get you a UNIT cap to wear.  
><em>_Ianto: Did he!? Well... red... is my colour.  
><em>_Martha: So, am I right in thinking that you and he...  
><em>_Ianto: We... dabble...  
><em>_Martha: Yeah?  
><em>_Ianto: Yeah.  
><em>_Martha: So... what's his dabbling like?  
><em>_Ianto: Innovative.  
><em>_Martha: Really?  
><em>_Ianto: Bordering on the avant garde.  
><em>_Martha: Wow.  
><em>__Ianto: Oh yeah... huh...__

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><p>Martha looked down into her third (was it her third?) tumbler of Glenmorangie with an odd mix of amusement and trepidation. She was a bit tipsy.<p>

It felt good to be a bit tipsy, though, she decided. Martha Jones spent far too much of her life being responsible, saving the world, and protecting the innocent, and not nearly enough time relaxing.

Besides, she thought, it seemed that she wasn't alone. Ianto and Jack were enjoying their relaxation as much as she was, if their reddened cheeks and casual, unguarded affection were anything to go by.

She was happy to see them both smiling. They would have to talk out their issues eventually, despite Jack's reluctance; Ianto wasn't going to let the matter rest, and she believed he shouldn't have to. Jack may be the most charming man she ever knew, but even he couldn't distract his lover indefinitely from their issues. Tonight he was doing his best to try, though. And tonight, after the horrors of the past two days, maybe that was okay.

The tension between them had been eased, at least for the moment. They were in their element now: the sensual, the impulsive. It suited them far better than reluctant domestic squabbles.

They were beautiful together, she thought happily as she watched them banter and tease from her spot across the small table in Jack's room. They had already been through a lot as a couple and they were growing stronger because of it, despite the emotional frustrations they were dealing with. The way they looked at each other when they weren't being cautious for the benefit of others warmed her heart, and it also gave her a small, unexpected sense of longing.

She would probably never have anything like that with Tom, she realized with a pang of sadness. She had fallen in love with him during The Year, and felt so strongly for him that she had sought him out after the Doctor had set things right. But they had undone the past and Tom Milligan didn't remember any of the time they had spent together as freedom fighters. He was still him, of course, but this fresh, unscathed version of the man she loved simply wasn't quite the same. He would never understand the extent of her battle scars, or the nightmares that woke her up screaming. He would never share the memory of the reasons she had truly begun to love him in the first place; those moments had simply never existed in his timeline. Also, because of the nature of her security clearance, he would never really know what she went through on a daily basis working for U.N.I.T. There was so much she couldn't share with him. At least Jack and Ianto never had to lie to each other about the details of their daily lives, no matter how reluctant Jack was to discuss matters of the heart.

Martha suddenly realized she was not only wallowing in self pity, but actually envying the simplicity of one of Jack Harkness' romantic relationships. The thought made her laugh, and Jack glanced up at her with glittering blue eyes.

"What are you looking at, Martha Jones?" he demanded playfully, pausing momentarily in his flirtation with Ianto. She suspected they had forgotten she was even there, for a moment.

"Two gorgeous men," she replied without hesitation, her tongue loosened by the whisky warming her insides, "who needn't behave themselves on my account."

Ianto blushed furiously as he snapped his head up to meet her eyes. She winked at him and he smiled, clearly a bit shy under her scrutiny.

Jack, never anything close to shy, moved to kiss Ianto deeply, full on the mouth, clearly showing off for her benefit. The passion and love she could see between them made her weak at the knees. Watching Jack seduce someone was like watching a master chef cook. Her mouth actually watered at the heat and beauty of the scene in front of her and she hummed softy in pleasure as she watched the moment unfold, heat blossoming in her core as she stared at them.

"Martha likes to watch, Ianto," he whispered between kisses, loud enough for her to hear, and then it was her turn to blush.

It was true, though, and Jack knew that very well. Denying it was pointless.

"I should head to bed," she said regretfully when they came up for air, "and give you two some privacy."

She knocked back the last of her whisky in one sip, then stood up and pushed in her chair.

"No need to leave now, Miss Jones," Jack grinned, the invitation shining in his glittering eyes. "There is more than enough of Ianto here to go around, if you'd care for a taste."

He nipped at Ianto's ear suggestively, but the smaller man ducked out of the way, smiling, and turned to gauge her reaction to Jack's words.

Martha laughed and bit her lip. A taste of Ianto? That was tempting indeed. But she really shouldn't. Her gaze flickered to her shoes, then back up to Jack. She _really_ shouldn't.

She caught Ianto's eye. He smiled at her coyly. He didn't want her to leave either...

Jack looked at her knowingly as she deliberated. In the brief moment of her hesitation he came to stand behind her and pulled her back up against his chest. She laughed and relaxed into his arms, tilting her head back to smirk at him, enjoying how warm and solid he felt against her back.

"Just what do you think you're doing, hm?" she asked with a playfully raised eyebrow.

_And just what sort of behavior are you entertaining right now, Doctor Jones?_ the responsible voice in her head demanded to know.

"Nothing," he replied, nipping gently at her neck and collarbone until she felt shivers down her spine, "unless you want it to be something. What do you want, Doctor Jones?"

"I do have a boyfriend," she said aloud, dutifully, wanting to remind herself as much as him, even as she turned in the circle of his arms to face him. "I wasn't just saying that to try and scare off Owen."

"Hm, that was not an answer to my question. Are you telling me to stop?" Jack asked softy, going still, his breath hot against the side of her neck as he pulled her closer against him. She felt her skin break out in goose flesh.

She most certainly did not want him to stop. She _should_ want him to stop. But she didn't.

"I'm telling you I can't kiss you," she replied evasively, feeling her self control falter as Jack's hands tightened on her hips.

"She's definitely not telling you to stop," Ianto commented. She glanced over her shoulder at him and was met with a mischievous grin.

His impish smile warmed her insides.

"Martha can't kiss me, Ianto," Jack complained, squeezing her hips lightly. Then he smiled wickedly and said, "But you can."

Ianto's eyes sparkled brighter as they appeared to share some sort of silent communication that Martha didn't understand. Her stomach fluttered in nervous anticipation, of what she wasn't sure.

Slowly, still smiling, Ianto came up behind her, gazing at Jack, moving closer until Martha's small body was trapped between them. The scent of their mingled aftershaves was far more intoxicating than the whisky she'd had. Martha felt the glow of attraction in her belly warming to a slow, steady arousal as Ianto pressed his chest lightly against her back.

Oh, she shouldn't be doing this.

Jack leaned forward over Martha's shoulder to capture Ianto's lips with his own, and Martha felt the younger man's hands come to rest on top of Jack's at her hips. The two men threaded their fingers together, and Martha shivered at the intimacy of the gesture.

They stayed like that for a while, kissing each other again and again over her shoulder. Every so often Jack would moan and push his hips into hers while Ianto pressed his weight gently forward against her back.

Martha whimpered as she felt herself growing wet. Their reactions to each other - and perhaps to her as well - were unbelievably erotic, and, trapped between them as she was, it was quickly becoming overwhelming.

Ianto's hands moved slowly up and down along her body, barely brushing the sides of her breasts.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and dark. She whimpered and let her head roll back onto his shoulder as Jack hummed his agreement. But Ianto still didn't kiss her. She had, after all, told them they couldn't.

Jack began to angle one of his his legs between hers, sliding his thigh between her knees to give her a hint of pressure where she wanted it most. A breathy moan escaped her lips, and the heat between her legs seemed to triple in intensity, at least.

Ianto's teeth grazed her ear, lightly biting the back of her neck before leaning forward to kiss Jack once again. When he moved she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into her ass and she groaned as her hips pushed back against him of their own volition.

Leaning close to her ear, Jack whispered, "Are you sure about this? Just say the word."

He was giving her an out, an escape route, in case she was having second thoughts.

She wasn't.

"Don't stop," she whispered desperately.

She could feel his lips curve into a smile against her neck as he leaned down to kiss her collarbone.

She squirmed within the confines of her jeans, grinding harder against Jack's thigh and back into Ianto's hips.

Ianto reached around her torso to rest his hands on her ribs just below her breasts, maddeningly close without actually touching. She arched her back, trying to twist until his warm palms would graze her aching nipples, but he was having none of it. He laughed as she groaned in frustration, and his breath tickled the hairs on the back of her neck.

Jack, whose hands were still on her hips, pulled her firmly against him, pressing her pelvis down against his muscular thigh. She raised her eyes to meet his, sparking brilliant blue above his flushed cheeks, and he winked at her before leaning over her shoulder once again to kiss his lover.

Together the two men rocked against her, setting a slow, steady pace that made her whimper as the warm pressure within her kept building slowly, relentlessly.

The soft undulations of their hips carried her almost off of her feet in sort of an erotic dance, causing the heat inside her to grow even more, very, very slowly.

Too slowly. It just wasn't enough.

After a while, Martha thought she would scream in frustration from the promise of release that hovered just on the edge of her senses.

She craved Jack's strong, warm hands in her most intimate places, and the feeling of Ianto's cock pressed hard against her ass - so close to and yet so far from where she needed it to find her relief - made her feel like she was going insane. She squirmed within their arms, trying to find more friction, more pressure - anything. But despite her frustrated writhing, both men kept their slow, steady pace.

Martha groaned in desperation as they leaned over her to share another tender kiss, continuing to stoke the flames within her while the peak of her passion hovered just out of reach.

"More," she begged at last, breaking the thick silence, her voice breathy and hot, pleading with them to forget their infuriating teasing game.

"Please."

The two men exchanged a meaningful glance over her head, and Jack nodded almost imperceptibly.

Ianto leaned down and bit her shoulder lightly, driving his hips hard against her ass and Martha thought for the hundredth time that she might lose her mind.

Jack held her and looked down into her eyes, his own blue ones dark with passion. He smiled at the desperate expression he found on her face.

"Show me what you want," he whispered in a low, urgent voice, finally relenting in his teasing. "Show us."

At this point Martha had no reservations or modesty left to inhibit her. Wantonly, brazenly, she complied.

Deliberately, without taking her eyes off of Jack's, she took one of his hands from its resting spot on her hip and placed it at her hot center. His cheeks flushed darker and she could tell he could feel that the wetness had soaked through her knickers and jeans.

"Martha jones, you are amazing," he breathed.

Ianto hummed his agreement, raking his fingers up her sides underneath the hem of her shirt and nipping softly along her neck with his teeth.

She gasped as Jack started to move his hand.

As he proceeded to trace small, deliberate circles at her core, Martha arched her back and gracelessly pulled Ianto's hands around to her aching breasts. At last he touched her there, kneading and pinching her swollen flesh, all the more tender from the teasing, making her moan his name.

_Yes. This. Finally._

The storm within her grew impossibly stronger until she was reduced to whimpering incoherently between the two men, taking short, panting breaths in her haze of pleasure.

"Come for us, Martha," Jack whispered as her head fell forward onto his shoulder, legs trembling and reeling from the touch of his expert fingers. "I want Ianto to see how beautiful you are when you come. Show us, Martha."

She gasped and writhed against their bodies, climbing higher and higher in her passion.

"Now," Ianto whispered, thrusting his hips forward to push his swollen cock harder against her and press her hips more firmly against Jack's fingers.

And then, suddenly, with a white-hot explosion behind her eyelids, she was lost.

As the wave of pleasure created over her, she cried out helplessly and convulsed between the two strong, solid bodies that held her.

They held her through her release, only stepping away when it was clear she was standing on her own two feet.

Collapsing back into her chair at the table, Martha reeled, amazed at the fact that she'd just had one of the most erotic experiences of her life without even unbuttoning her trousers.

_And without even a single kiss_, she though to herself. They followed her rule - and only that rule - to the letter. _That's Jack Harkness for you._

She turned her attention back to the two men in front of her, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm. Ianto and Jack devoured each other's mouths and tore at their clothes, stumbling to sit facing each other on the couch as they hastily freed their erections from the confines of their trousers.

Lost in each other completely, foreheads pressed together, panting, Ianto took both of their cocks in hand and jack wrapped his fist around Ianto's. Together they worked with a familiarity born from experience and affection, until they came, Jack with a low, aching groan and Ianto with a gasp.

Martha hummed appreciatively, then poured them a large glass of water from the table which they accepted appreciatively.

After they finished the water and the two men cleaned themselves up, the three of them looked at each other: breathing heavily, disheveled hair, swollen lips, and clothes in disarray, and they all burst out laughing.

"Here's to the end of the world," Jack proclaimed, reaching for the bottle of scotch and filling three shot glasses. Ianto and Martha took theirs in hand, and returned his toast.

"To the end of the world."

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><p><strong>AN: Things certainly heated up here for our trio. This chapter took ages for me to write, because it's always hard for me to put characters I love in morally questionable situations, but I'm glad I did because one one of the things I find so compelling about Martha is the fact that she's so real and relatable, and the truth is that real people don't always make the most virtuous option when faced with a choice. Additionally, I've always been really confused and annoyed that she was engaged to this fabulous Tom fellow, when all of a sudden he vanishes without a trace and now Martha's with Mickey. My headcanon here is that Martha couldn't handle being with someone "normal" after all she's seen and been through, especially working for a secret organization like UNIT… so I thought I'd sew the seeds of that here. Hope you enjoyed it! xxo, O.A.**


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